Adoring Revenge
by tigerchic121
Summary: [HHr][AU, starting a good chunk into HBP.][Hermione would always seek revenge, if she felt someone needed it.  However, Harry never imagined a world where her revenge would split their trio, jumble emotions, and open up exciting possibilies with a kiss.]


**Disclaimer: tigerchic121 does not own Harry Potter or any of its related affiliates. She says if she did there'd be more Harmony to behold in everyone's life.**

This picks up right after Hermione runs out of the common room and into an empty classroom, after she sees Ron and Lavender snogging. Harry has just chased after her, and they seconds later, Ron and Lavender stumble in. Anything italicized and bold is Jo's.

Furrowed into my mind and wouldn't leave until I finally put pen to paper. You know those plot bunnies. Vicious beasts, the lot of them.

* * *

_In revenge and in love woman is more barbaric than man is _

_-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche_

* * *

_**The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by they hand.**_

"_**Oh," he said drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.**_

"_**Oops," said Lavender, and she backed out of the room giggling. The door swung shut behind her. **_

_**There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of awkwardness and bravado "Hi Harry! Wondered where you'd gotten to!"**_

Ron still couldn't look Hermione directly in the eyes, but was eyeing the two of them rather suspiciously, much in the way he had the day Quidditch trials, when Harry had pulled Hermione aside.

_**Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she rather looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.**_

"Er…" started Ron, casting a wary glance at Hermione's movement. "…what are you two up to?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer Ron's question, but then shut it quickly because he really wasn't sure exactly _how_ to answer it. What had they been up to? Nothing, besides a few awkward sentences pertaining to who Ron had been playing tonsil hockey with in the common room, but Harry couldn't well say _that_ as an answer.

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione demanded in a quiet voice, startling Harry from his thoughts. Her gaze was piercing into Ron in a way that made Harry very thankful he was not on the receiving end of it.

"Er, well…" Ron shifted his weight from one foot to the next. Still unable to meet Hermione's gaze, he directed his line of vision several feet above her head. However, he was forced to look away again as his eyes landed on the flock of birds above Hermione's head that seemed to be twittering much more violently around her.

"Well," he started again, "it's just that you both were gone for a long while." He glanced up quickly at Harry, who saw this only barely out of the corner of his eye. He was busy looking at Hermione, who looked as if she seemed to think Ron had not explained his reasoning well enough. Ron quickly picked that vibe up, and even though he looked unhappy about it, continued haltingly.

"And, erm, you know. It's been an eventful day…ah…emotions…have been running high. I was just…just wondering if…if you two were…" he seemed to struggle to find the correct words to couple with his train of thought, "…reacting accordingly." At this he ended with a twitchy shrug of his shoulders, and adopted a nervous half grin.

Harry's eyes wandered back over to Hermione. She looked, if that was possible, even angrier the before, at whatever Ron had been insinuating. The birds around her head had started flying in a scattered and random course, making her look ten times more frightening then before. Harry's eyes flickered between his two best friends and the birds, become more bewildered every passing second at his friend's behavior. He then tried to push away his feeling of growing confusion by figuring out what exactly Ron had been saying in-between the lines, as to make Hermione so upset, and Ron so uncomfortable.

"_It's been an eventful day." _

"…_emotions…have been running high." _

"_I was just…just wondering if…if you two were…reacting accordingly."_

Images of the day fled through Harry's head, as he began to sort though Ron's layered words.

_Him pretending to give Ron Felix Felicis; winning the earlier match; Hermione's accusations at him; Ron being rude to Hermione and causing her tears; being accosted by Romilda Vane; Lavender and Ron snogging in the same armchair…_

His mind hit a snag as they began to start connecting the dots between what Ron had been saying and thinking.

"…_emotions…have been running high."_

_Lavender and Ron snogging in the same armchair._

"_I was just…just wondering if…if you two were…reacting accordingly."_

The gears shifted suddenly in Harry's head, and he furrowed his brow as a curious thought crossed Harry's mind.

"Hang on…" Harry started slowly "…you make it sound like you think we've been--"

But he was cut off by Lavenders sudden reappearance into the room.

"Ron," Lavender whined, completely missing or simply ignoring the thick tension hanging heavily in the air. "Hurry up." She walked up behind Ron (who had had his back to the door) stepped up onto her tiptoes, the front of her body pressing into his back, and whispered huskily into his ear, "I'm tired of waiting for you."

Harry heard Hermione shift her stance from beside him; moments later he glanced to his right to see her folding her arms protectively over her chest. She also cleared her throat loudly in the general direction of the two, as Lavender began to run her fingers saucily up and down Ron's arms from behind. The birds around Hermione all seemed to let out a group screech mimicking their mistress's behavior.

Lavenders attention snapped to the pair of them a few moments following Hermione's noise, and Ron redirected his gaze languidly back to them also, from its previously spot watching Lavender's hand.

Pain would be done to Lavender soon by Hermione's hand, if Lavender didn't leave, and Ron was smart enough to pick this up.

"Erm…" he gingerly removed Lavender's hand from his arm and turned to address her. "Go back to the common room and enjoy the party. I'll be there when I'm done with this and I'll meet you in our spot."

Lavender smiled her saucy smile once again, and brushed her lips against his ears as she lowered herself onto her heels.

"Your wish is my command."

She then sauntered out the door swinging her hips in such a way that Harry was almost distracted from the matters at hand. However, the look of pain on Hermione's face as Lavender was leaving, was enough to make him wish Lavender would lose an encounter with one of Hagrid's skrewts.

Ron was already far gone at this point, Harry reckoned, if the way that he was fixing his eyes on Lavender's bum was any indicator. Harry both felt angry at Ron for hurting Hermione and worried for him—not many people got Hermione as angry as she was undoubtedly, and lived happily to tell the tale.

The door shut with a snap and effectively snapped Ron out of his trance. A few seconds later, and the whole situation became much more awkward then it had originally.

"You…were saying Harry?" Ron began uneasily after an about thirty second of so pause.

Harry opened his mouth once again to voice his notion that Ron must have come to the completely wrong idea that he and Hermione had been pulling something akin to his and Lavenders recent hook up, when Hermione interrupted him once again.

"Is it really any of you business Ron?" Hermione asked, but the tone in her voice had changed completely.

This Hermione, Harry knew, was different from the cold, calculating, sad, and pitifully pained Hermione of minutes past. This Hermione was the determined, stubborn; planning Hermione, that Harry often saw when they had a challenge that was not easily solved with a quick trip to the library.

Personally, the latter Hermione was much more frightening to him. Even though he was rather upset with Ron for upsetting Hermione, Ron was still one of his best friends. So, for Ron's safety and mental well being, Harry prayed that Ron would be smart enough not to engage with Hermione.

"What are you playing at, asking if it's any of my business?"

Poor Ron didn't know what was good for him. Ron was alone now-

Harry took a small step away from Hermione.

-and Harry didn't want to be caught in the crossfire.

Hermione retaliated almost instantaneously.

"What I'm 'playing at', Ronald, is my want, for lack of better word, to know why exactly you think it's your business to know exactly what Harry and I do with each other, or with others for that matter, when we're out of your sight."

"I just wanted to know why you weren't in the common room at the party." He shot back, even though his hasty answer to Hermione before Lavender had entered the room a second time, did not suggest that was the truth at all.

"We were gone for all of twenty minutes Ron; do you honestly expect me to believe that you needed to know exactly what we were doing where and with whom?" The birds around Hermione's head started to dart around the room as Hermione gave up the spell she had been doing to keep them compact and circling around her head.

"You two are my best friends. It's normal for me to feel—"

"Worried? Curious? Suspicious?" She cut him off with a snarl.

"So what if I was worried?" Ron's ears slowly started to turn pink "I'm your best friend and that's what best friends—"

"—I had no idea Ronald," she continued as if he wasn't speaking at all, "that you were this clingy." Her voice was rising in volume, the birds screeching rising to meet hers as well. The yellow canaries' flight was also becoming much more sporadic as well, nearly banging into Harry as they seemed to dart over speedily towards Ron, the obvious agitator of Hermione. Harry quickly tried to think of a counter-spell to Hermione's, but try as he might he couldn't remember it. Instead he took to stunning any bird blindly flying his way, armed with only his wand, Seeker reflexes, and hopes that Hermione would soon calm down and call off the spell.

However, it didn't look like she would be calm anytime soon.

"How could I have been so stupid!" She exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe I should start informing you whenever I have to go to the loo, so my 'best friend'" she spat sarcastically, "won't be worried about me!" She finished.

Ron's whole face began to match the color of his reddening ears. Hermione look livid and even more determined to carry out whatever she had planned in her head to set off Ron. Both of them look ready to pounce if threatened, and the canaries' had stopped moving spastically around Hermione, and had become positioned above Ron, taking to dive bomb him whenever Hermione looked particularly mad. Harry, on the other hand, was stunned at the frightening pace in which this was all escalating.

"Would you bloody well stop interrupting me Hermione!" Yelled Ron. "And would you call off your god be damned psycho birds!"

With a glare, Hermione yelled "Oppugno!" which caused the birds to fiercely attack Ron for a few moments before Hermione waved her wand again, and the birds vanished from Ron, who had been swatting at them to get them away, his own wand forgotten.

Ron started his furious verbal tirade again. "I don't get it Hermione, why in the world do you seem so morally offended at the fact that someone might be worried or curious about where you've gotten to?!"

"I would be offended, if I though that "someone" was worried about my _safety_, and not my activities!" Hermione shouted at Ron, who was still safely across the room from Hermione and Harry himself.

Ron took one angry stride to the two, his face red as his hair, to prelude the next words out of his mouth.

"Why won't you just tell me what the hell you two have been doing!" He screamed at her, and, if Harry wasn't mistaken, was partially directed towards him too.

"Tell you!" She shouted. "Why in the world would I waste my time, words, and energy, trying to explain to you what Harry and I have been doing, when you yourself have so little experience with it!" She demanded. Harry's stomach filled with dread, and he suddenly wonder how far girls would go for revenge. Having a pretty good idea in his mind, he multiplied the extremity of that idea by ten, and hoped, futilely, that Hermione wouldn't seek it.

"Hermione…" Harry began, trying to diffuse whatever disastrous thing Hermione seemed to be on the brink of doing next, but she shot a look at him that clearly said 'don't you dare get in the middle of this' and reduced him to contemplating running and hiding from that such look. In anger or, as Harry miserably realized, in plan, Hermione stepped in front of him. From above Hermione's head, and curly hair, Harry saw Ron's look change from aggravation to incredulity.

"'Tell you!'" Ron mimicked. "Were you paying attention to anything we were just talking about Hermione?! How am supposed to know what you've been doing in here with Harry, in you won't bloody tell me?!"

"I won't tell you," Hermione snarled quietly, "but if you really want to know I'll just have to show you. I doubt you'll even understand then," she continued nastily.

Harry's train of thought about Hermione's plan to 'show Ron' went from confusion (_'we were only in here for two minutes, what in the blazes is there to show?'_) to alarm at what Hermione might be hinting at.

"Hermione," Harry began once again, alarm evident in his voice, "I don't think that's such a good idea—"

But Hermione spun around to face him, and three fingers was all it took to silence him. Her eyes were a blazing and deep brown, and her chest was heaving in an effort to pump oxygen into her lungs and steady her breath which had been lost in the fight. Her hand dropped from his mouth to her side, and her head craned up to look at him.

"But I think it's a good idea Harry." With her gaze fixing into his, wordlessly telling him to trust her and follow her lead, Ron's own eyes watching their movements, and Hermione slowly stepping in closer to him, Harry felt very cornered, and could barely represent his houses' trademark bravery, feeling very much like fleeing the classroom.

"And, no offence Harry..." She continued, her voice melting from one of incense to one of a silky nature, her feet closing the little space in between his, her hands slowly drawing up his arms to rest on his shoulders. Harry's ears were filled with a buzz of apprehension. "…but I think we both know I'm the smarter, more practical one here." She finished with a slight seductive hint attached to her sentence, that Harry was certain he'd never heard before.

"Hermione…?" His own voice was high and squeaky compared to hers, as her fingers danced upon his shoulders as Lavender's had to Ron's only minutes ago. Her chocolate brown eyes fixed into his, and her arms bended at the elbows to bring his shoulders, upper torso, and head closer to her. The heels of her feet slowly started to lift off the ground, lifting Hermione up a few inches. "What are you—"

But he was interrupted by Hermione once more, however, it was not by her words, or by her fingers, but by her own warm pair of lips, covering his own. Paralyzed with surprise, Harry did little to nothing to respond, as Hermione's lips started to move against his own, her taking advantage of the fact that his were open when she leaned up to kiss him. Her lips brushed smoothly against his. To his greater surprise, she let out a small and convincing moan from the back of her throat, and pressed her lips to his even more forcefully.

To say that Harry was shocked, would be a major understatement. To say that Harry was actually enjoying this kiss a lot more then he had any other kiss, and a lot more then he ever thought he would, was an understatement as well.

Hers lips and breath into his mouth were so nice and hot; they sent sensations of pleasure up and down his body, reclaiming spots where anxiety had reigned, with this incredible warmth that set his stomach flip-flopping in a way nothing, or nobody, ever had before. He was close enough to her that he was able to smell the odors wafting from her hair, from **her**, a smell of fresh soap, of books, ink, and parchment, of something flowery yet husky. She smelled so wonderful, he wondered how he had gone nearly six years without realizing how intoxicating she smelled.

So, as Hermione lifted herself higher on the balls of her feet higher to gain better access of his lips, higher to wrap her arms around Harry's neck, Harry responded back with pure instinct. The fact that Ron one of his best friends was standing a few feet away from him, the fact that this was his other best friend for god sakes, who was probably just kissing him to make his other best friend jealous, flew straight out of his head, banished into the depths of his mind. Harry, on this pure instinct and desire, let his body find the luxurious, amazing, deeply moving magical warmth it desired by kissing Hermione back.

Harry felt Hermione stiffen in quick surprise at his actions, obviously expecting the kiss to be a one sided affair. But as Harry began to gradually work his own lips against hers, when he placed his hands gingerly against her waist, thumbs working in a slow caress up and down her side, she promptly began to relax into his hands.

Getting mildly annoyed at how he had to stoop down a bit to reach Hermione's beautiful lips, Harry wrapped an arm about Hermione, encircled her back, and pulled her body flush to his. She let out a squeak of astonishment at his actions into his warm mouth, which caused Harry to yearn for her, her soft lips, her body, her magic, even more. Harry's mind began to go pleasantly blank, as new forming, barely explored, jolts of desire tingled over him at any point their bodies touched. He was completely lost in the feeling their embrace.

Hermione simultaneously began pulling him down and stretching up to meet him, her hands beginning to furrow themselves in his hair. With Hermione shifting and wriggling against him, a tide of desire stronger then before overtook him. In the back of his brain, as Hermione fitted her chest to his, her body to his, Harry marveled at the fact that Hermione's small, womanly body seemed to fit perfectly against him, and his body acted once again in accordance with his thoughts, banishing the last barrier between him and Hermione, and thus achieving the conquest to completely lose himself in the sensation of the kiss. To do this Harry brought Hermione even closer against him, tilted her back slightly over his steadying hand, tilted her head to match his, parted her lips with his tongue, and slid his tongue against her own tongue.

At this point Hermione did not stiffen, did not seem to register surprise at Harry's move, and instead moved slightly, with a flick of her own tongue, to meet his.

Their tongues began to timidly probe against each others, though the strange and quickly unfurling passion that was stemming from this kiss was not lost as the two explored the others mouth. Their shy explorations with their tongues did not originate from a lack of newfound ardor, but rather the knowledge they both seemed to have gained; that by stepping into this deepened kiss they were stepping out of a habitual niche of friendship they had grown to know and into the vast uncharted waters of possibility. They knew that Harry's small seemingly insignificant action of letting his tongue discover that of his best friends was a very intimate thing—at the very least emotionally—not to be lost to the heat of teenage hormones.

_Not to be lost by lust_, some part of Harry's conscious whispered tantalizingly, and this thought surprised him so much that he almost let go of Hermione in shock. _Lust…_this was not lust. Well, part of this incredible kiss he was experiencing _was_ powered by lust, by the 'monster in his chest', but the other part…

…the other part was…

_It's pretty obvious,_ started the Hermione sounding conscious softly into his mind once again. _It's—_

"You bloody wanker!"

…_a bloody wanker? What in the world…_

But Harry's jumbled thinking was interrupted seconds later when he found himself ripped from the warmth of Hermione and pinned up against the wall seconds later. A hand was twisting his collar and holding him up by his neck, causing his feet to dangle a few centimeters above the ground. Disoriented and confused by his sudden change of scenery, Harry blinked through his askew glasses, to locate the hand holding him to the wall. Desperately Harry grabbed at the hand in an attempt to relieve the pressure it was exuding onto his windpipe. To Harry's amazement, he was dropped back to his feet a few seconds later, but this move wasn't without consequence.

"Ron, no!"

Harry's head snapped up at what he realized was both a cry of terror and the voice of Hermione, a combination he dreaded. However upon looking up to identify the source of Hermione's shout, Harry found himself looking not at the brunette witch, but instead at a fist connected to his other red headed best friend heading straight towards his face.

Ron's fist seemed to be coming towards his face in slow motion yet Harry knew he didn't have time to duck. All he could do was watch it, mesmerized, as people watch horrible crashes—unable to help or look away.

Until of course, Ron's fist hit him straight in the mouth and everything began to speed up again.

Blood spurted from Harry's bottom lip, flecking blood over both Ron's shirt and down Harry's jaw. Harry snapped his left hand to clutch his jaw, and at the same time looked up furiously to meet Ron's livid glance.

"You prat, what the hell was that?!" Harry yelled at Ron.

Ron seemed to be beyond words at this point though (plus in retrospect, it was a pretty ridiculous question), and decided to try and answer with his fist again instead of his words. This time Harry was not to be caught off guard. Whipping his wand out when he saw Ron wind up a second time, Harry pointed his wand at him and thought an infuriated non-verbal _Reducto _in his head.

There was a flash of light, a high pitched scream from Hermione, and Ron was thrown across the room from the power of Harry's spell. Ron hit the wall with a dull thud and fell to his knees with a crash. The air was thick with magic, creating a slight buzz that settled over the room. Harry stood on the opposite side of the room from Ron with his wand frozen in his outstretched hand, chest heaving in exhilaration. Hermione stood in the middle of the two, tears spilling over onto her cheeks, with a shaking hand covering her muffled sobs, and her other hand gripping onto her own wand.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no. " Hermione looked torn back and forth between the Ron grunting on the ground, no doubt in an effort to recover, and Harry whose blood was flowing steadily down his chin and onto the front of his robes. She cast a frightened look to Harry and then slowly made her way to Ron.

"Ron…?" She bent down to in front of where Ron had fallen. She placed an unsteady hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay—"

But she was cut off when Ron pushed her arm and by extension her body, roughly away. Surprised she stumbled and fell to the side. A fit of anger towards Ron seized Harry, and he started to form another spell to shoot at him, when Hermione righted herself again to her feet and shot Harry a desperate look.

"Don't, please."

Hermione slowly made her way towards Harry, purposely positioning herself in front of Harry's line of fire. She was looking him straight in the eye, urging him somehow to lower his wand.

"Ron's not the one you should be mad at Harry, and you know it." Hermione was now dead straight in front of him. She was almost as close as she had been during their kiss a few minutes before, and that thought alone was enough to send Harry's mind jumbling to an unacceptable territory when dealing with one's best friend. He could barely concentrate on her previous statement, especially when she placed a soft hand upon his own. She pushed down on it forcing him to slowly lower his wand along with his hand. "I am."

Harry shook his head. Hermione must have been off her rocker. Ron was the one who had punched him. Ron was the one who had called him names and pushed her. Ron was the one who interrupted…

Ron had interrupted Harry and Hermione's kiss. Harry's mind was racing. Why had he done it? Because he was upset that his two best friends were sneaking around behind his back? Because he thought Harry was taking advantage of Hermione? Because…because Ron fancied Hermione, just as…just as Harry had suspected by the words and actions of Ron to him and Hermione.

Harry's stomach plummeted. Ron thought Harry had betrayed his trust, by snogging the girl he knew he fancied (even if technically Ron had never explicitly said he liked Hermione—but there was a code between guys after all.) And what was the cause of this?

Hermione. Hermione had been the one to try and make Ron jealous, by turning around and kissing Harry, not only Ron's best friend, but the one person Ron had always been a little jealous of. By extension, Ron was in fault because of that too, by hooking up with Lavender, but if Harry was going to play that nitpicky game, then the fault would land on whatever greater power choose to have Harry, Ron, and Hermione meet. Besides, Hermione didn't have to kiss him to make Ron jealous, and yet…she had.

Harry was in conflicting mind frames. He didn't want to blame Hermione for what she'd done, mostly because he could still feel the echo of his lips against hers, and their tongues intertwined from his deeper initiation. Yet he knew that, best case scenario, because of her action, he wouldn't be on speaking terms with at least one of his best friends for the next couple of days. Harry was at a complete loss of what to do. His emotions (frightening and changing as they were rapidly becoming) were saying one thing, while his logic was dictating another.

"Harry…?" Came Hermione's voice, with an edge of uncertainty etched into it. He looked down to her pained face, chocolate brown eyes swimming with worry.

"I…I don't…know…" Harry's eyes flicked dizzyingly from Hermione, to her hand on top of his, to the slight crack in the wall that remained from Ron's impact, to Ron slowing getting to his feet, to the blood dripping onto his shirt.

"What?" Hermione sounded more worried then confused and this caused Harry's eyes to stop their frenzied motion. His gaze fixed into hers.

"I don't know…what to do…"

Hermione's eyebrows rose slightly at this, and she opened her mouth to speak. Instead of her decidedly female tone greeting Harry's ears, a baritone roar did. Hermione spun around away from Harry, and they both were greeted with the sight of Ron charging quickly to where they were standing, whipping the wand out of its holder. Upon seeing this Harry started back into a fighting position. Neither of them seemed to realize Hermione was standing in-between them.

Big mistake.

Ron's mouth started to form an incantation, and Harry was ready with a _Protego_, and another _Reducto_ if necessary. Hermione however, had another idea.

"Stop it!" She screamed out, and flung a hand out in front of Ron and Harry to halt their spells. One of her hands went to Harry's chest, and the other caught Ron's wrist, which was attached to his wand. "What are you doing?! This is not logical—"

"Get out of the way Hermione." Growled Ron. "You're not making this any better." Hermione's lips trembled as she fought to hold back her tears, and hold her ground.

"No." She said firmly. Ron looked as mad at Hermione as he did at Harry, his hand clutching his wand so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Harry was sure if he was standing in Hermione's position, and Ron was giving him that look, Harry would be bleeding from more places then his lip by now. This thought slightly worried him. Though Harry knew his friend would rather die then hurt a friend (unless the friend had say, kissed the girl they fancied), he was still worried about how the impulsive temperament in Ron coupled with the stubborn determination of Hermione would turn out in the end.

"More out of the bloody way Hermione!" Ron's eyes were blazing a bit more dangerously now.

"Ron…" started Harry, shifting his body out of attack mode and into defense mode, as he began to see the logic behind Hermione's action, in keeping them from fighting. "Maybe…maybe fighting wont help us gain anything." Harry finished carefully.

"Oh yeah?" Ron, at this point did not seem to take Harry's action as one of hopeful reconciliation, but to be a patronizing one instead. "Well what else is there left to do? Where would talking get us, you berk? Doesn't seem like there's much left to say."

"Oh, for heavens sakes Ron, please just listen to what Harry needs to say, and perhaps you'll understand that it isn't him you should be angry with, its—"

But she never got to finish her sentence, because Ron had ripped his wrist out of her grasp and pointed his wand around Hermione to take aim at Harry, all semblance of a calm façade gone. Harry snapped instantly back into attack mode, but found once again he didn't need to. Hermione had once again prevented Harry and Ron from exchanging spells, by placing her hand flat on Ron's chest, and with a heave, pushing him back a few feet.

"I said no!"

Ron was eyeing Hermione with a malice he usually reserved for Snape or Malfoy. In fact, he was looking at Hermione with the malice he usually had in his eyes when he was about to hex Malfoy. Without consciously realizing it, Harry once again grew uneasy of Ron's intentions, and wanted to dissolve the conflict as soon as he could because of it.

"Ron, mate, think about what you're doing." Harry tried to keep his voice even, but he knew there was a hint of warning in his voice. Little as there may have been layered into his words Ron seemed to pick it up. His face tensed up slightly in his jaw, and Harry braced for the worst.

However, Harry was completely surprised as Ron did the last thing Harry would have ever thought him to do in a situation such as this.

He laughed.

But it wasn't nice.

It was loud and brazen, with no humor contained in its pitch.

"Oh this is rich Harry, very rich. Just when I think that I don't know you anymore, what with the thinking that you'd be too noble to ever sneak around behind my back, you prove that I do know you. In fact, I suppose I know you as well as I know myself. I mean," here he let out a little chuckle, and Harry felt his stomach squirm, "you're in the same mind frame right now, that I've been in for a while. Just like I did, you don't trust your best friend to be alone with the girl you f—the girl who's your other best friend. Only difference is," here Ron's voice quieted, "my worry wasn't unfounded."

"Ron…" Ron's eyes slinked off of Harry to glance at Hermione. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and Hermione's own filled with unwelcome tears. Then he, not before throwing one last cursory glance a Harry, turned around sharply and walked out the door, closing it with a shuddering slam.

There was a harrowing silence once more.

* * *

To be continued…

…when I find the charger to my laptop, and it isn't rapidly losing battery power. I was originally going to type more (as I have more written up) but I'll have to save that for tomorrow.

Cookies to anyone who recognizes the line (slightly changed by a word) from Rebel Angels in here.

Review my loves. 3


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